


Burn in sight

by Fanfreluche



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, POV First Person, Smut, Young Dutch, Younger Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-19 15:27:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22712956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanfreluche/pseuds/Fanfreluche
Summary: This is Not a Love Story.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Dutch van der Linde
Comments: 19
Kudos: 79





	Burn in sight

“It’s for you.”

She looks surprised. It’s bad, I think, and feel it too, in my shoulders slowly dropping below their natural height. Not because I like her, no. But I don’t fancy rejection, not even after a fake declaration of interest. If this can be called such a thing. She must be used to much more refined forms of overtures.

“Why, thank you, Arthur.” Her smile, wide and bright, has a sisterly kind of fondness to it. Or so I imagine. Could be wrong. Figure I’ve never been a good judge of these things. “Would have never taken you for a romantic!”

I’m not.

“More the rough and silent type.” She goes on, clutching the bunch of wildflowers I picked for her earlier that evening in both hands. “And troublesome, let’s not forget that, hmm?”

That last bit, the ‘hmm?’, slaps me with a sort of light-headedness I only get from him. Then again, she says it like he does. Must have picked it up from him. I blush. Can’t tell if it’s cause of past memories, or cause she’s showering me with compliments now. All for a stupid posey. Doesn’t even look special. Could have been prettier, if I’d had more time to gather more kinds of flowers, maybe some scented herbs too. But it doesn’t matter. He will notice. That’s what matters. 

“I wonder…” She pokes an index fingertip into the dimple on her round right cheek. “Should I give you a gift in return? Whatever would you like, my dear boy?”

Disappear. That’s what I’d like the most. Oh, and, don’t call me a ‘boy’ when we’re more or less the same age. I can’t say either, so I lie. 

“How about a kiss, Miss Belle?” I demand, smiling, brash, young, troublesome. “A proper one.”

She kisses me. I’m surprised. I was expecting a peck on a cheek or the brow, but no, it’s on the lips. My cheeks and ears burn warmer, the downy hair on the nape of my neck prickling. I kiss her back, even manage to get a bit of tongue in, but in the end she stops me with a hand on the chest. She’s blushing too, I notice, when I lean back. Suddenly I want her. Right there, on her and Dutch’s bed. And not only because she looks extremely pretty right now in the candle light with all the flowers on her lap, and smells so good, but also cause whatever she did to me gave me enough courage that I think it would be the grandest idea if he comes in and sees us together, naked and sweaty, fucked out. Much better than the initial, boyish - admittedly - plan of having him see the bouquet. What was I thinking? I think she wants it too, can see something in her eyes, and the way her fingers just won’t let go of my collar. I wonder, does she want me or does she want what I want? 

“Hosea! Guess who I met in…”

His voice. We both jump back. My heart is pounding, hands trembling. I’m afraid, and so I make my escape through the back flaps of the tent. Hushed as a feral cat, I make my way to where the horses are tied, where I can see him and Hosea laughing over something. I stay there, wave at them, pretending to be grooming the horses, until I catch sight of him entering his tent and then I bolt. 

Always liked the night sky, so I spend the rest of the night lying on my back on a bed of fallen leaves, staring up at the stars, and fall asleep right there in my union suit and jeans, so by the time I’m awake my body is achy and stiff all over. _All_ over. Must be the dream’s fault. Dreamt that he’d come for me after seeing the flowers and fucked me rough and hard. Oh well…

The camp is quiet when I get back. The three of them must be asleep. I crawl into my tent, but it’s cold and I don’t feel like sleeping, so I crawl back out and the first thing I bump into is a pair of legs blocking my way. Shit. He doesn’t say anything, only motions for me to follow him to a copse by the lake some distance from the tents. 

“Where were you last night?”

Hiding, from you. I can’t say that, so I lie.

“Was playing cards, at the town.”

He raises an eyebrow, stretches an arm towards me and pulls out a shrivelled leaf from my hair. I shrug, distract myself by snatching his cigarette from his hand and taking a drag, looking away at the tall lilac-blue velvet of the mountains lining the horizon. 

He comes closer, now standing almost behind me. I try not to flinch at the heavy grip of his hand on my shoulder. His voice is deep and calm in my ear, amused even. 

“Annabelle said you fucked her.”

Huh!? That...

I almost swallow the cigarette, choke on the smoke and spit it out, my eyes burning with tears. “Just kissed her! I swear, Du-”

Oh. He is grinning. Yeah, got me well, you lying bastard…

I lower my eyes. In shame. And also because I can’t look into his this close after such a long time. Walking in a circle, he stands in front of me now, hand sliding from my shoulder to cup my jaw. More tender than expected. Figured he’d punch me, or… Mmm… Can’t help it. I lick the tip of his thumb, resting on my lower lip. One more time. Just one more. More… In to the first knuckle now and so I bite it, playfully, and suck on it, greedily, and it tastes of salt and leather and dirty money. I search for another taste and don’t find it. 

He laughs at the sound I make when he pulls back. But there is no mirth in his expression when I finally look up and let my eyes meet his. 

“You can have her when I’m done with her.”

He turns on his heels and moves to leave, but I grab him by an arm and push him against a tree with more force than intended. Still getting used to my growing strength, I guess. It’s a good feeling, especially at times like this when I take him by surprise and catch a glimpse of what I reckon is a tiny bit of fear. 

“I want her now.” I growl, closing in, shy of pressing my bulk up against him. “I want to fuck her now, I want to-”

Can’t take it anymore. I kiss him, rough and wet and violent and impatient and with teeth and tongue. Can’t tell at first if he’s kissing me back, but a warm glow flares up in my belly when his hands seize my waist, pushing and pulling. Can’t tell what he wants. Never can with Dutch.

Have to pause when a moan spills from my mouth to feel his thigh slipping between mine and pressing up to my crotch. I cling to him, cheek resting on his steady shoulder, eyes pressed close as I try to contain it, the heat of pure need. And the shame, from the way I’m humping his leg, like a damned dog. My fingers clench his arms tighter, tight enough to leave bruises, on purpose. He chuckles and shifts a hand to grab my ass, kneading gently. Can’t stop now, not even if I wanted to. Don’t want to. Haven’t done any of this since he brought her with him all those months ago...

“Arthur…”

There are times when I hate it when he calls my name.

“Arthur,” He whispers again, softly. “We are not going to do this when I’m with her.” And softly kisses the shell of my ear. “You have to wait.”

But you can fuck her when we’re- No. That’s petty. That’s not me. It’s not us. And I have enough dignity not to ask how long. And enough pride not to give him the satisfaction of hearing the customary ‘okay’.

I pull away, slowly. My stiff cock is sticking angrily to my wet union suit. I push his still affectionate hands away, and for some reason that makes him mad. I don’t even know how it happens, but I’m pushed against the tree now, chest to bark, his erect length pressing to the curve of my ass. And a moment later he’s pawing my jeans open, draws my cock out and, hmm, the perfect pressure... Calloused fingers glide firmly, slowly, along my sensitive flesh. My breath hitches. I press back against him, my body bending to the pleasure his touch brings on its own accord. Wish I could do that to him. Maybe I do, I think, hopeful, hearing his sigh, sensing the heat when his chest almost touches my back, feeling the tingling shock leaping off my skin in repeated jolts when his other hand snakes its way inside my union suit, fingertips grazing a nipple, then down to rest on my belly, rubbing tenderly… It feels good. Oh, it feels... I open my eyes, need to concentrate, don’t want to come too fast. A bead of sweat drops from my brow on my cock. It’s red and moves smoothly in and out of his burning hot grip. His fingers are slick with precum, glistening almost. Wish I could lick them and the thought makes me chuckle. Feel more of his weight on me now, and imagine for a moment that his mouth is pressed to the side of my neck, but can’t be too sure. So I ask him to do just that. He doesn’t. A hand flies up instead to hold my throat. I moan without wanting to, try to bite his hand to silence myself as I fuck his other hand. I’m close now. So close… Fingers hurt from digging into the tree trunk, top of my head too, my scalp burns, it bu-

I watch him, moments later, tidying up his clothes, imperceptibly as he can, fingers running through his hair. Myself am squatting with my back propped against the same tree, smoking a cigarette held in a slightly shaking hand, back of my neck still smarting from that last bite he gave me just before we separated. I throw mean glances at our guests who rudely interrupted us. Don’t think they saw nothing, cause we are quick to reassemble from all the practice. My cock is still hard. Dutch’s probably too, seeing as he has that irritated curl to his smile. He’ll probably grow a moustache to hide it. Or it could be cause of the company. He doesn’t think much of the O’Driscoll brothers, but still trusts them enough to tell them where we are camping. Fuck.

I don’t join in the conversation. Just hear bits and pieces that tell me it’s about a job. What else? Boring details. I’d rather make a decision about how I’m gonna get my release soon as I’m able to get away from the camp. Maybe that girl I met at the town the other day, Eliza was her name. Gracious little lady. Wouldn’t say no, I think. I imagine how I’d undress her, what she’d look like underneath, her sweet scent… Till I’m distracted by the sound of a voice I’ve never heard before. It’s deep and expressive, has a nice ring to it.

Colm’s brother. Never speaks, though he is older and bigger, always lets the younger do the talking. Thought he was mute, I did, until now. Doesn’t have that menacing ratty look on his mug either like Colm does. Doesn’t have to, I reckon, and that makes him even more dangerous. 

I stand up and approach them. Our eyes meet. He isn’t exactly handsome, but I see now that he has the same fire in his eyes as Dutch does. His gaze lingers. He saw us, I realise. His eyes drop to my neck. My cock twitches. 

I make up my mind.


End file.
